


after the dust settles (where do i stand?)

by codepink



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: ? - Freeform, DEAL WITH IT, Fake AH Crew, GTA!AU, M/M, a different society au, micheoff, ray is still in this au, sort of, uh, you'll just have to read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codepink/pseuds/codepink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where dating outside of your own social class is taboo, Michael only ever looked at Geoff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	after the dust settles (where do i stand?)

Michael knew there was a process to follow in all of this. That if he wanted to get it right, he needed to follow the rules set out by generations before him. Rules ingrained in their minds since birth and passed down from family member to member. There were steps, that if followed correctly, would end in a possible relationship. And there were steps, that if followed incorrectly, could get him outcasted. Either way Michael had to steel himself for the outcome.

A man of his social standing is fated to be with someone of equal or even lesser standing. Though, it was never fate that decided who he should be with, it was the hierarchies. ' _Stay within your class_ ' was all they ever heard in school and from parents and even grandparents. It was in ads on television and radio and plastered on billboards that covered every inch of available space in the town. It wasn't a law, not by any means, but it wasn't exactly a request either.

He's tried dating his own class, even lower, but nothing ever works out in the end. He grows tired of the floozy girls and he's bored with the mundane boys. There's no one who peeks his interest in his side of town even though his mother tries very hard to find someone. She's a nice woman who is only looking out for him but she has terrible taste in people. Michael has a specific type and his mother just can't seem to understand that. He can't make her understand, so he stops trying to.

His specific type is so specific that very few people would ever fit his tastes. He likes a man with brawn but who doesn't showboat his muscles as a pick up technique. He likes someone with rough hands and tattoos covering every inch of them. He likes someone with a particular, if not funny, kind of mustache. The kind that curls at the end and requires way too much gel to perfect. He wants, needs, someone who will be rough with him when he needs it and soft when he doesn't. Someone with a controlling personality if not intimidating.

Someone like Geoff Ramsey.

Michael has known Geoff for several years now and has worked in close spaces with him for just as long. Geoff co-owns a company under the pseudo name RT, a totally illegal operation dealing in foreign exchanges of goods and merchandise not available in their area, not even their country.

Geoff has rough hands from years of fighting in the streets. Michael knows this for a fact because he remembers being struck by their texture when they first shook hands. And he feels them every time Geoff claps him on the shoulder after a good day out in the streets. Michael wonders what they would feel like if they slipped from his shoulders to his neck or down his chest. Michael likes to trace Geoff's many tattoos with his fingers whenever he can. Most of them are uncolored or unfinished but each one is bold and beautiful.

The only problem with pining after the older, is the class difference. Geoff may be a rough criminal but he was still in a higher class standing then Michael. And even just working together for so long made other people uncomfortable. Everyone knew who Geoff was everywhere they went. Most of the time he was recognized by just normal townspeople. But the worst was if he was recognized by people that were after him.

But the danger came with the territory and if Michael wanted to continue being with Geoff, without actually being with Geoff, then he'd have to deal with the constant violence.

 

"Hypothetically though," Gavin started and the entire table groaned. They were all getting too drunk, excluding Ray, to deal with Gavin's drunken round of twenty questions. But they entertained him anyways.

"Would you ever get with a low-rater?" The question was simple, just another stupid question. Except this question made Michael tense up. Gavin sometimes forgets that Michael is at the bottom of the standings in the group, the only person amongst them belonging to a low peg of the social ladder.

"No way dude, that's like social suicide." Ryan slurred and knocked back another shot of whatever liquor he had ordered. 

"Yeah, I know. Why would anyone," Gavin trailed off as he too took a shot of more liquor. Michael could use more right now but he doesn't think being drunk and angry would be a good combination right now with Gavin sitting right in front of him.

"What about you Geoffrey?" 

"What?" Geoff snapped out of his daze, staring into his bottle for the past five minutes. 

"Would you ever date a low-rater?" Gavin repeated the question except this time a little louder. The women in the booth behind them snickered and Michael heard them saying about how terrible it would be to even be seen with a lower rated person. Michael sunk down in his seat a little, heat quickly rushing towards his cheeks. Geoff's answer would either light a new spark of hope within him or completely crush it.

"No." 

Geoff's answer was quick, the older taking a slow drink from his bottle. The table was quiet as everyone seemed to be thinking about their own answers to the question.

Then Gavin had to open his big mouth and ask, "Why not?"

"'Cause like it'd be embarrassing wouldn't it?" 

Michael was absolutely horrified. And he swears by whatever cruel deity existed out there that he felt his heart literally start to crack open. 

"Yeah, it would." Ryan agreed and the table shared a laugh about it. The women behind them shared a laugh about it.

He needed to say something. They always seemed to forget he was a 'low-rater' and usually he thought of it as a blessing because they never looked down on him. But sometimes, like when they're all getting wasted, that it's more of a curse. An awful, cruel curse he can't escape even though he tries to. No matter how hard he tries he'll always ever just be a low rated citizen and never worthy of ever knowing what it'd be like to be with Geoff.

"Embarrassing?" Michael muttered, rubbing his palms over his thighs in a nervous habit. He supposes it's better than biting his nails until they bleed.

"What was that, buddy?" Geoff asked and the entire table's attention was solely on him. All eyes from the surrounding patrons were on him as well and he felt the women behind him turn around to look at them as well. And Michael doesn't do well with people looking at him like he's done something wrong.

So he snaps. He slams his hands down on the table hard enough to knock a glass over and stands, hunched over the table. He squeezes his eyes shut from the tears itching behind his eyes to be released. He will not cry. He will not show them how badly Geoff has wounded the very small shred of his heart that was left.

"If it's so embarrassing, why am I here?" Michael's voice was calm, not betraying his inner turmoil. But when his voice was this calm it meant he was about to start yelling. And the alcohol heating up his veins was going to be the catalyst for his anger and Geoff his target. "Why are you even still my friend? Is it 'cause I'm such a low-rater that you keep me around for fucking entertainment?!"

Michael glared at Ray and made shooing motions with his hands. The younger got the message and slid out the booth to let Michael out. His head was starting to swim from the booze and the anger and years of being pushed around finally coming to the surface.

"Am I fucking funny to you?" Michael stumbled to the empty table next to theirs and picked up a beer bottle. He turned and threw it full force at Gavin's head. Glass shattered against the wall and rained down on his _friends_. "Huh?! Oh look at little Michael, the stupidest fucking piece of shit ever! Let's all laugh at his standing because we're all high and mighty above him. Blahblahblah."

"Mich-"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'd sit back down." Michael was aware that threatening Geoff, the crime boss of Los Santos, was never a good idea. Especially when the elder has been heavily drinking all night. But Geoff advanced towards him, hands still out like he was coddling a cornered animal. And if Michael was an animal he's tear everyone to pieces for even looking at him now that he's made the entire bar realize just how low on the ladder he is. Judging eyes boring into him like bullets that he can't dodge.

"Let me take you home." It didn't sound like a request or an offer, it sounded like an order. And even though Michael was furious at him he still had a weak spot for Geoff. 

He quickly deflated and allowed Geoff to gently guide him out of the bar and to his car. Michael knew Geoff shouldn't be driving but he always drove while drunk and they've never had an accident yet. Michael thought he'd like if they had an accident tonight and he died. At least then he could stop being such a nuisance to his friends. As they pulled into the night traffic, Michael finally let himself feel the pain of Geoff's straightforward answer to his unasked question.

He hoped the darkness of the inside of the car would hide the fact that he started to cry. He was a hardened criminal for Christ's sake. He has killed many people in his career. Has looked death in the face on every job and never once batted an eye at the danger. He lived off the adrenaline rush he gets from firing a gun into someone's skull. Or the feeling he gets when they successfully rob a store or the bank.

"Michael," The way Geoff always said his name made Michael's chest feel good. Except now it just makes it hurt with rejection and barely concealed anger. "I'm sorry."

Geoff has only ever apologized twice as far as Michael can remember. The first time being when he had to break the news to Jeremy's fiance that he was shot down during a heist. The second time being when he had to kill a mother of three whose husband was targeting Geoff's men. Michael remembers Geoff on his knees in the blood, repeatedly telling the dead body of the woman he was sorry. How sorry he was to her children and her parents.

The rest of the car ride was silent save for the rumble of Geoff's old car. Michael noticed that they weren't headed towards his apartment but Geoff's. And Michael didn't care as long as he could just lay down and forget this night ever happened and rebuild his fantasy of ever being with Geoff.

 

Michael can't sleep that night even though he's slept in Geoff's apartment plenty of times before. The bed feels too big and the room feels too small. So he flees to the kitchen to get a drink.

Only he skips the water and goes straight for the vodka sitting on Geoff's counter. He grabs a shot glass and shakily opens the bottle. The smell is horrid but Michael needs more alcohol so he can finally fall asleep. He's about to drink it when he's startled, the cup falling to the floor and shattering. 

He quickly jerks around and Geoff is sitting at the bar on a stool, cup of coffee in front of him. Michael doesn't know how he missed the older sitting there. And would have probably had no idea he was had Geoff not cleared his throat.

"It's rude to just take a guy's booze." Any hints of being drunk didn't show in Geoff's voice. His voice was soft and breathy, just the way Michael liked it. Though he'll take that to the grave with him.

"Sorry." Michael's voice was softer, a lot quieter than usual. He stooped down with a washcloth and began piling the shards of the glass into the center of it to make disposing of it easier. Michael thought that this must be what his heart looks like in his chest. And his eyes prick again but he doesn't cry again.

"We need to talk about tonight." Again it sounded more like an order from a boss than a request from a friend. 

"Okay."

Michael finished cleaning up the mess he made and dumped the glass into the trashcan, recapping the vodka bottle and putting back where it was. He stood awkwardly by the archway leading out of the kitchen in case he needed to get out of there if things got bad between them.

"I forget we're not from the same class. And my mouth is loose when I drink, and again I'm sorry." Geoff sounds sincere and it's strange to hear coming from him. Geoff only ever sounds this sincere when he's promising a big pay out from a heist job or when he's complimenting the team's work.

Michael still feels like crying. "It's okay." And really it isn't but he's so ready to move past all this. Even if Geoff said it out of drunken banter, he still was pretty adamant about never being someone like Michael.

"Why are you so accepting of the bullshit you get?" 

Michael can't tell if it's rhetorical or he's actually suppose to answer. Geoff puts his chin and his hand and stares at Michael, the younger starting to get uncomfortable.

"Always had to be." And it sounds like a shitty excuse for Michael being so quick to pass off the judgement he gets all the time. "I've always been a low-class and it's never going to change. I can't just promote myself to a higher class for posterity. I gotta keep some dignity." Even if that dignity keeps himself up at night. "Gotta work so hard for it that eventually I am promoted." But the chances of that are slim. Unless you marry out of your class, you're stuck in your class. And no one wants to date an embarrassing low-class anyways so the chances of that ever happening are ridiculously low.

"You know that's damn near impossible right?"

"Thanks for rubbing it in." The bite in Michael's voice even takes him off guard. He isn't use to being spiteful with Geoff but he feels emotionally vulnerable after tonight's fiasco. And a vulnerable Michael is a nasty, rude Michael. "I'm going to go to bed. I'd give you a lame excuse as to why, but it's really just to get away from a condescending asshole." Michael turns and walks back to the lonely guest bedroom and doesn't really go to sleep.

 

The tension in the car is palpable if not suffocating. Michael is driving with Geoff riding shotgun. Gavin, Jack and Ryan are all in the bed of the truck and Ray is following in his own car. The heist today is a tricky but extremely easy one. Get into the shipping yard and steal the expensive electronics off the pallet. Suppose to get them all a fairly large profit once they sell it to the right people. 

Michael doesn't know whether to cry or to laugh at the fact that he's on a team with Geoff. The older gent purposely made the teams like this and it irritates Michael to no end. After his blow up at Geoff's house, the older gent has barely spoken to him. And for as much as Michael misses his voice he'd be fine with the silence once it's just he two of them. No more talks of feelings and all that bullshit.

 

Once there, Michael parks the car under an overpass. The teams have already split up. Gavin and Ray are in charge of clearing out the few scattered guards around the shipyard. Jack is responsible for getting a forklift to get the pallet and Ryan is responsible for running interference should they encounter any problems. Geoff and Michael are to stay with the truck so Jack can load the goods onto it and make an escape.

The silence is more annoying than talking about feelings so Michael breaks it. "I'm sorry too." He sighs and puts his forehead on his arms on the steering wheel. He reaches up to mute his headset so the others don't hear their conversation. 

"It's okay." Geoff sounds exhausted. He must have stayed up all night planning every minute detail of this heist. Michael wants to kiss the roughness out of his voice but knows he can't.

"So hypothetically," Michael starts. He needs to ask or he's going to loose his sanity. "Would you ever date a low-rater?" He poses the same question that started this mess hoping for a better answer.

"Yes."

And suddenly Michael's heart decides then that it needs to pound out of his chest.

"Why'd you tell the others no?" 

"'Cause they'd have gotten on my case about it. And frankly, I was too drunk to put up with it."

"So all this," Michael sits up and gestures between them. "Was because you lied?" Michael feels cheated somehow. Like his restlessness and anxiety could have all been prevented. More than anything he feels  betrayed, sort of. Angry, vulnerable Michael is making a return and he can't stand to look at Geoff. "I've wrecked myself over the fact I'd never have a chance and it was all because you lied?!" His voice echoed in the car.

"I've stayed up every night mourning my lost. Because you're too big of a coward to tell it like it is?" And oh Michael is so angry at Geoff right now. So much so he just wants out of the car. So he opens his door and slides out, boots crunching the gravel beneath them. He slams the door shut and walks around to the bed and pulls down the tailgate. Where he parked has a great view of the city and the lake, lights reflecting off the calm water.

His eyes prickle and he lets himself cry. He needs to feel what he's feeling in it's entirety so maybe it'll finally go away. He hears Gavin and Ray bantering over the headsets but even that can't make him smile. 

He's angry at himself too for revealing to Geoff his crush. Months of pining in secret have been revealed with no desirable outcome. Michael had thought of every scenario for a scene like this. Just the two of them looking at the horizon and discussing feelings. Geoff leaning in and saying something that makes Michael laugh. Them kissing despite the class difference. And in every scenario, they are oblivious to the difference.

Suddenly there is a hand on his cheek and under his chin. His head is lifted and a pair of lips descend on his, a mustache tickling Michael's face. Geoff is kissing him and Michael doesn't know if it's real or just his wanting imagination. But the hand on cheek moves to the back back of his head and it feels real. Geoff is solid against him as he pulls Michael closer until Geoff is standing between his legs. The kiss is fleeting.

When Geoff pulls away, hands still on Michael, the younger can't see through his tears. But he can smell and taste Geoff all around him and he sobs. Geoff pushes Michael's face against his chest as the younger cries into his shirt. His arms won't move to embrace Geoff but that's okay for right now because, dear God Geoff is holding him. Geoff is holding him after kissing him and Michael can't breath. Geoff just hushes the younger and runs his fingers through Michael's curls.

Ryan's voice crackles in the earpieces. "We're heading your way. Gotta make this quick, I think they called back-up." Then the earpiece goes quiet again.

Michael leans away from Geoff to wipe at his eyes with his shirt. He hopes if anyone else notices his red eyes, they don't say anything. Geoff's fingers splay on his cheeks and his rough thumbs rub away the tear tracks over Michael's flushed cheeks. The gesture means so much to Michael then he would ever be able to put into words. It meant so much more to him than anything at that moment.

A horn blares from the forklift that Jack pulls up to the truck. They all load the equipment in silence, Ray and Gavin joining up with them. Everyone else rides in Ray's car and Geoff and Michael take the truck.

The tension is gone and in it's wake is palpable happiness. Michael glances over and Geoff hasn't stopped smiling this whole time and Michael feels himself beaming, eyes still raw from crying so much lately.

"I've liked you a long time, Michael Jones." 

The sudden confession has Michael swerving a little bit before his brain catches up with his heart.

"You too, Geoff Ramsey."


End file.
